


The Apostate

by NCPanthersgurl



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II, Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-07-26
Updated: 2014-08-09
Packaged: 2018-02-10 11:55:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,745
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2024196
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NCPanthersgurl/pseuds/NCPanthersgurl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Anders/Fem Hawke. My take on their story. :)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [The Griffon and the Hawk](https://archiveofourown.org/works/1774873) by [HeroMaggie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/HeroMaggie/pseuds/HeroMaggie). 



> Go easy on me, I haven't posted writing on any websites in years, haha. This is a work in progress with a ways to go so forgive me if chapters are short for a bit. Thanks for reading and I really hope you like it. :)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Characters, etc. copyright of Bioware.

      "A Grey Warden?"  
      "That's what Varric said. That there's a Grey Warden in Darktown who might be able to help us find a way into the Deep Roads."  
      Carver huffed, crossing his arms over his chest. "You mean to tell me that even after all this, we don't have an entrance to these tunnels?"  
      "Apparently not."  
      Lillian Hawke caught the annoyed expression in her brothers eyes and sighed. She understood his frustration but really, any help this Grey Warden could potentially give them she was game for. She wasn't looking forward to her first venture into the Deep Roads; if it wasn't for the fact that she couldn't stand leaving her mother with Gamlen in his cabbage-scented house she probably wouldn't be doing it at all.  
      "Are we going?" Carver was tapping his foot impatiently, staring at his blank-faced sibling.  
      "Yeah, yeah lets go."  
      "Do you even know who we're looking for?"  
      "Not really." Lillian glanced at the note in her hand, "all I got from the refugee Varric sent me to was that he's living in Darktown, he's a he, and he's running a healing clinic. Oh, and to look for the lanterns."  
      The resounding grunt she got in response was enough for her to know Carver just wanted to go. Aveline was planning to meet them in Darktown; her patrol was down there today anyway and she couldn't see leaving Carver and Lillian to investigate a Grey Warden alone.

      The sight of the heavily armored strawberry-blonde woman made Lillian smile. Intimidating though the woman could be in stature, she had a big heart and a level head.  
      "So a Grey Warden, hmm? You definitely keep some interesting company." Aveline smiled widely, her arms crossed in a way that closely reminded Lillian of her brother.  
      She nodded, "Apparently I do."  
      "Do you know anything about him?"  
      "Not really." her gaze shifted to Carver's silent form, then back to the guardswoman. "I know he's running a clinic and aiding refugees but that's about it."  
      "Which makes me assume he's an apostate." Her brothers voice was filled with displeasure.  
      "Yes well... that's possible."  
      Aveline shrugged, "I think if there's anything you've taught me Hawke it's that not all mages are bad."  
      The dark haired mage laughed, scrunching her nose. "Let's go. Besides Carver; he's probably some old wrinkled man with a cane and hunched shoulders who can barely walk let alone give you grief. I bet you're making a fuss over nothing."

      Finding the clinic wasn't as hard as anticipated. There was a trail of low-lit lanterns tucked into inconspicuous spots, leading to a set of wide wooden doors. One was slid open, the other tightly shut.  
      Lillian was immediately impressed by the scale of the clinic. There were cots lined haphazardly up the left and right sides, most filled with refugees. Adults, children, their parents... all being helped by the couple of volunteers running around fervently. Towards the back there was a bit more commotion, a set of parents clutching at each other and watching the cot before them. On it lay what Lillian was assumed was their child, a pale boy who looked feverish. A man stood over him, large green and silver orbs of energy floating in his palms. He held them above the child, forcing the energy into the small body. When the child sat up even Lillian gasped in awe, her eyes watering when the parents scooped him into their arms in relief. The healer turned from them, leaning heavily against one of the clinic's support beams. A volunteer gave him a flask of water and a lyrium vial, both of which he drained quickly. Then he spun swiftly, aggressively, pulling a staff from behind him.  
      "I have made this place a sanctum of healing and salvation. Why do you threaten it?"  
      Lillian hesitated, her eyes finally focusing on the man before her. He was tall, broad. His shoulder length blonde hair was half tied back, keeping it out of his bright amber eyes. She swallowed hard, then raised her hands in a sign of surrender.  
      "We're not here to cause you trouble. A friend of mine said you might have some information on the Deep Roads."  
      The mage hesitated, then relaxed a bit. His hand was still firmly on his staff and he shook his head.  
      "No, I'm done with that. Are you here to take me back to the Warden's? I'm not going back. They made me give up Ser-Pounce-A-Lot. There's no way I'm going back."  
      Lillian stared, confused. "N-no. I'm not here on behalf of the Warden's. We're doing a private excursion into the Deep Roads, and we're just looking for an entrance."  
      He shook his head again, "I really have no interest in helping you... unless." there was a slight pause, "Unless, maybe you can help me."  
      "With?" Carver's voice startled Hawke, and the blonde mage half smirked at her jump.  
      "I need some assistance in the Chantry. They obviously don't appreciate apostates wandering in the front door. But... how do I know I can trust YOU?"  
      With a grin, Lillian snapped her fingers. A small flame danced out, and she lightly threaded it between her fingers before snapping them again to put it out. The healer grinned, pleased, and propped his staff behind him.  
      "A mage. Unanticipated. Definitely welcome." he smiled, the relaxed state increasing into charm. "I'm Anders. If you want, we can work out a deal. Fair enough?"  
      Lillian nodded, relieved. "What can we help you with?"

     Anders was hesitant to reveal his plans to this unknown, but he needed help and she was a mage. Justice wasn't too fond of the idea but then again as long as they were working what could he really complain about? He had pulled the young mage woman aside, told her his situation in a hushed voice. The focused expression she wore, along with her eagerness to help, relieved him some. Perhaps this small mage would be helpful after all. Lillian. Lillian Hawke, she'd said her name was. A Ferelden fugitive as well, with short black hair and a scar across her nose. Anders had eyed the scar, debated telling her he could heal it in a matter of seconds. But he held off; there were more important tasks at hand.  
     And now he was here, waiting for her to commune with her companions. Waiting for her to come back and tell him if they'd agreed to help or not. Really, if just she helped he would be grateful. Karl was a dear friend and the thought of not being able to save him was too much... When the girl appeared in the doorway, his breath caught. Her slight smile was a reassurance.

     The plan was to meet Anders at the Chantry late in the night. Carver and Aveline came as promised, and Lillian had also managed to coax Varric out; though if she was truthful he never took much persuading. Anders' friend Karl had sent him a message with a meet time and had assured him that there wouldn't be anyone in the building at the time. The added affirmation made Lillian anxious but she didn't say anything since Anders didn't seem perturbed by it. The blonde mage seemed edgy nonetheless, his knuckles white in a tight grip around his staff.  
     "Up the stairs. He said he'd be in an alcove..." Anders voice shook, and Lillian glanced towards his face. His brown eyes were dark with worry, his eyebrows pinched together. Her eyes traced over his light scruff, the faint worry lines that creased his forehead. There was a twisting feeling in her gut and Lillian swallowed, shaking herself back to the present. Flight of stairs, decorative pillars... There was a man. Slender, dark green robes. His back was toward them and he didn't move at the sounds of their approach.  
      "Karl! It's such a relief to see you well. Come quickly, we can get you out of here." Anders voice lit up with relief and excitement, but the mage didn't respond. "Karl?"  
      "Anders when will you learn? It's not so bad following the rules..." The older mage turned, the fringe of his dark grey hair lightly touching the edge of the sun-shaped scar on his forehead. "It's really not so bad, being tranquil."  
      Lillian watched Anders face go from excitement, shock, sadness, and then rage in a matter of seconds. "When did they do this to you?"  
      "It doesn't matter when Anders. It wasn't soon enough. This is a more desirable lifestyle. You will see. Templars; this is the apostate."  
      Each of the five had already unsheathed their weapons at the sound of approaching armor. Templars were closing in on each side, their own weapons drawn and eyes trained on Anders. The blonde mage's eyes had reached a point of panic, but his face and stance were pure rage. When the Templar's drew their weapons he collapsed in on himself, falling to his knees. Lillian shifted her stance protectively but was pushed back when the mage exploded into a ball of blue energy. His eyes had become a bright pulsing white-blue, the same color of the bright lines that now traced his features.  
      "You will never touch another mage." Anders roared angrily, his voice now much deeper and reverberating through the hollow Chantry halls. His companions flew to action when the Templars charged forward, but the sheer fury Anders had destroyed them in mere moments. He flew back to Karl's side before he began to calm, his sadness fading the blue lines and his eyes returning to their normal brown.  
      "A-Anders?" Karl's voice was rough, confused. "I don't know what you did but I can feel the fade again. I can... I can feel again."  
      Lillian moved forward, placed her hand on Anders shoulder. He wasn't moving, his eyes on the mark on his friend's forehead.  
      "Perhaps there's something we can do... a cure..."  
      Karl shook his head sadly. "There is not. End this. Me. End me. Before I can't feel again. It's a horrible feeling, not feeling. I'm so oblivious to my decisions, I just do them... Please, Anders." The elder mage took Anders hands in his, "I can feel it fading. Please end this for me."  
      Breathing heavily, Anders shook his head. "I can't. I can't do it."  
      Lillian moved a step closer, leaving her hand where it was but shifting so she could see the young man's face. "You have to Anders. We can't leave him like this."

      Hands shaking Anders took the dagger held out to him. He pulled Karl into a tight embrace, whispering something into his ear. Before he pulled back he thrust the dagger into his friend, the blood quickly coating the front of his robes. He caught him as he fell and lowered the body to the ground, closing his eyes momentarily in grief. He felt Hawke's hand on him, felt the eyes of the other three boring into him. There were questions he had to answer, and Justice wasn't something he could just explain away. He'd been too late... Too late. He needed to think.  
     "I need... Come find me tomorrow. Is that alright? I'll give you the maps."  
     He turned his back on the three, hurrying past to make his way back to the clinic. Halfway down the stairs he saw Hawke lean over the banister, hesitant.  
     "Anders... are you.... are you okay?"  
     Hesitantly Anders answered, "No... But I will be. Thank you."


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Might as well get to know that healer a little better, while we're at it. :)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I tend to not snitch lines from the actual game; unless they were lines I really liked. Since there was a couple in here I thought I should mention that. ;)
> 
> I'm a slow writer who likes to build things explicitly before anything good happens. Sorry not sorry. ;)
> 
> Characters, etc. copyright of Bioware.
> 
> UPDATE; hey guys I am working on the next couple chapters, it's just taking a bit because I've been working a lot this past week. I should have the next one up by either tomorrow or the next day. I haven't forgotten! :)

     The group had dispersed pretty quickly after Anders' departed. None were too eager to face another group of Templars, and all of them felt the need for a stiff drink. Varric bought a couple of bottles of whiskey and invited Aveline, Hawke, and Carver to his rooms. They sat talking for a few hours, Lillian pointedly ignoring the snide comments coming from Carver's direction. When she went back to Gamlen's house it was with her brother trailing grumpily behind, muttering about apostates and possession.  
     Sunlight crept into the room far too early for Lillian's liking and she scrunched her nose against it. Carver was already up, she heard him across the room arguing with their mother in fierce whispers. When she sat upright they both silenced, glancing her way.  
      "What's wrong?" Lillian's voice cracked with sleep, and she swallowed hard, "Why are you arguing?"  
      "Your brother seems to think you've found a dangerous apostate? The Grey Warden you were trying to find?"  
      Carver scoffed, "I don't think I know."  
      Lillian sighed, standing and stretching before allowing a response. "Look I'm going to go talk to him. We'll see what's going on. We don't know him that well, how can you possibly think he's a problem already?"  
      "I don't trust him and that's enough for me."  
     Carver was impossibly stubborn. Even after Lillian had drawn a bath, scrubbed, and dressed he was still yammering on about going with her to see Anders. She had no intentions of letting him, however.  
      "Look, he's upset. I'm going alone. You won't have the grace to deal with his grief."  
      After huffing for a while longer Carver was finally pulled away by their mother, giving Lillian the chance she needed to sneak out. Staff in hand she went straight for Darktown, stopping only long enough to grab a basket of sweet rolls for breakfast. When she got to the clinic the doors were boarded, the lanterns all puffed out. Surprisingly there was no one outside, and when she tried to pull the heavy wood aside there was no give.  
      "Anders. Let me in."  
      There was silence for several moments and Lillian was just about sure he wasn't going to let her in, when the door slid open a space. Anders looked bedraggled, his hair a mess and eyes haggard with exhaustion.  
      "Did you sleep at all?"  
      Anders shook his head, locking the door behind them. Motioning for her to follow he plopped himself onto a cot in a more secluded area of the clinic, one closed in with a desk and a small table cluttered with potions and ingredients. There was a privacy partition between this area and the rest of the clinic, but it still felt fairly open. Lillian propped herself against the writing desk, leaning her staff against a wall.  
      "Are you okay?"  
      The mage stared at his feet for a moment and then slowly exhaled, running a hand through his loose hair.  
      "I will be. I'm just drained. Very drained. It's a lot to take in."  
      "I could say the same thing." Lillian eyed Anders pointedly until he nodded.  
      "I suppose I do have some explaining to do. Alright, where do I start? He's a friend-was, a friend. We traveled together for a while but he was... a spirit. A spirit, inhabiting a very quickly deteriorating vessel." Anders shifted uncomfortably, "When the vessel started to erm, decay, Justice needed a host to stay in the mortal realm. He asked if I would let him stay. If I would let him help me with my cause."  
      "His name is Justice?"  
      "Sort of... it's not so much a name as an identity. He's the spirit of Justice, not simply 'Justice the spirit'."  
      "So you're possessed?"  
      "In the easiest of terms, I suppose."  
      Lillian considered, eying the man carefully. "Well at least he got an attractive host."  
      The surprise in Anders' eyes was amusing, and his face split into a half smile. He shook his head slightly. "Clearly I need to look in the mirror more often." He ran his hand over his chin, rubbing at the stubble unconsciously. "None of this bothers you?"  
      "I don't see you as being dangerous."  
      Anders scoffed. "That's the problem. I can't control Justice, when he gets angry he takes control... as he did in the Chantry." For the first time since Hawke arrived he looked up from the floor and met her eyes. "I am extremely dangerous."  
      Lillian stepped forward and shifted to one knee, eye level with the mage in front of her. "I guess I understand the sexy tortured look now. You're equalling yourself to a monster."  
      "Because I am. Trust me, you don't want to go down this road. Not with me." Anders stood, opening his desk to pull out a stack of paper. He resumed his perch on the cot, unfolding the papers carefully. "The maps. There's actually four entrances fairly nearby. Hopefully they'll be of use to you in the deep roads too. They're yours." he held out the stack, "As am I, as often as I can get away from the clinic."  
      Lillian met his gaze again, as they both got to their feet. His eyes were sad, and when he finally glanced away she could see them welling with tears. He tried to cover it by grabbing a string of leather and tying up a handful of his hair, casually brushing the escaped tears away.  
      "I have to open the clinic. You're welcome to stay and help, maybe I can teach you some healing magic." Anders' voice cracked, and without thinking Lillian stepped forward and wrapped her arms around the tall man. He flinched at her touch, and then relaxed and hugged her back, simply letting himself grieve. Lillian quietly held him, felt him shake in her arms.  
      She wasn't ever this forward. But this man... There was a lot more to him than people seemed to pay attention to. Lillian barely knew him and could see that. She couldn't help but wonder when the last time he'd even been hugged had been. His embrace was tight, warm, and the faint smell of herbs that came off him was nice. Lillian blushed, pulling away from the quieting man to meet his eyes.  
      "I'm sorry we didn't make it in time Anders. I'll stay with you for the day, help out. Is that okay?"  
Anders smiled, the first time she'd seen him really smile since the day prior. "Yeah, I'd appreciate the extra help." He turned, motioning to the potion-filled table. "Once we get these restocked we'll be okay to open. I hope you're prepared for what you've gotten yourself into. And Hawke?... Thank you."  
      Lillian flushed under his gaze, turning to the potions. Distractions. She needed distractions. Her eyes fell to the basket of sweet rolls on the table.  
      "Oh, right. Food. I haven't eaten. Are you hungry?" She grabbed one of the rolls and broke off a piece, stuffing it into her mouth. Anders eyed the basket suspiciously.  
      "What are they?"  
      "Sweet rolls... you mean you've never had one? Oh try them!"  
      Reaching for one Anders' gaze fell back to Hawke. She was eating quite ravenously but he still couldn't help but be endeared by her nonetheless. She was shorter than him by a good foot, her frame small but lightly muscular. He definitely considered her attractive, even with sticky sugar residue on her chin. When she flushed at his gaze he smirked, biting into his own treat.  
      "Oh! Maker these are good."  
      "See, I told you."  
      "I might eat the basket on you."  
      Lillian grinned. "I hope so, save me from doing it."  
      "You've got something..." Anders pointed at her chin. She flushed again, wiping at her face with the back of her sleeve.  
      "Alright, potions."

     Working at the clinic with Anders was both tiring and rewarding. It didn't take long after they opened the doors for the place to be packed. Lillian felt helpless when it came to healing magic, but she could do the little things. Minor cuts, bruises, things of that nature all went to her. Anders seemed to be smiling a lot more, and frequently Lillian felt his eyes on her. He was exhausted though, and the more healing he did the more closely Lillian kept watch on him. Finally after a rather taxing extraction she made him lay down while she closed up. She patched up the last few physical wounds, passing out potions to those with more serious problems to help slow the effects so they'd make it til morning. When she finally got the doors locked and potion bottles cleaned up, she ducked into Anders' little secluded corner to find him passed out in an awkward state of half-undress. She untied his shirt the rest of the way, grateful that he'd gotten the bulk of his robes off before crashing.  
      Oh Maker. Her first thought was an observation of how thin he was. Underfed and overworked, more likely. There were delicate scars tracing his skin, something she made a mental note to ask him about later. She was easily distracted though; he was muscular, but lightly so, and his chest was much broader than his robes let on. His skin looked soft and it took all her willpower to resist running her hand across his torso.  
      Lillian flushed bright red, feeling the heat rising in her forehead and grateful he was only slightly responsive. Nudging him around she managed to slip the shirt off his shoulders, covering him swiftly with a nearby blanket. She gathered her things and checked on him one last time before blowing out the lanterns, pulling the door behind her and wiggling the door until she heard the latch fall into place.

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so slow about chapters. Forgive me. I'll work on it. <3

     Carver was pacing angrily around the front room when Lillian got home. Gamlen and her mother had apparently went to bed, probably tired of listening to Carver rant. He reeked of whiskey and rancid perfume, usually a good sign he'd been visiting The Hanged Man.  
      "All day? You were with him, by yourself, all day?"  
      Lillian rolled her eyes, pausing to stare at the ceiling. Exhaling slowly, she met her brother's eyes.  
      "Yes. He's not a problem Carver, I promise." She explained the circumstances surrounding Anders and Justice, amazed that Carver kept his mouth tightly pursed until she finished. When she did he stared at her for several moments. Then he surprised her, stepping forward and scooping her into his arms.  
      "I'm sorry sister. I don't mean to lecture. I just... I worry. I worry about you, especially after... You and mother are all I have left."  
      Squeezing her brother tightly she stepped back, smiling warmly up at him.  
      "I'll be okay Carver. When have you ever had to really worry about me?"

~*~

     The next several weeks were hectic for Lillian. She fulfilled her promise to Flemmeth which led to the addition of a new person to the crew; Merrill. Merrill was an elvish apostate that sought an "adventure" away from her Dalish people. Which would be fine, but for the fact that she was a blood mage which made both Lillian and Anders extremely uneasy.  
      They settled her into a small house in the Alienage only to then overhear a Templar by the name of Thrask seeking an apostate whose mother had called the Circle about his unintended attraction of demons. After situating him with the Dalish, helping Thrask with some other apostates, and nearly being stabbed by Knight Commander Cullen (Lillian couldn't blame him, really, when the Templar he was interrogating became an abomination) Hawke demanded a few days off before taking the next job offered her.  
      After a day, however, Lillian was regretting her decision. Gamlen's ranting about money had become unbearable. The idea of helping Anders' in the clinic was appealing, and she felt her stomach clench at the thought of the fair haired mage. But she wanted to see how Merrill was adjusting and it had been a good while since she'd had lunch with Aveline or a drink with Varric. So a day it was. The guardswoman thankfully had the day off, and only a late night patrol. They both went to visit Varric and Merrill, unsurprised to find the elf nervous but well settled. Varric bought them both drinks, though Aveline passed on anything with alcohol for fear of not being her best on patrol... a fact which made Varric snort; the idea that a good fifth of whiskey wouldn't help with every problem. Anders wandered in eventually, looking haggard but perking up at the sight of the group in Varric's rooms.  
      "Anders! I thought you might not come up after all."  
      The mage smiled, sliding into the seat next to Lillian. "I could use a drink after today." His gaze slid to the mage next to him and he nudged her lightly "I could have used you today."  
      Lillian felt her stomach drop guiltily. "I'm sorry Anders, I thought about coming down but I assumed there was no possible way you'd need me."  
      He lifted a fifth of rum at her, downing it with a grin. "You'll just have to help me tomorrow."  
      "Deal."

      Morning came early, too early, and Lillian grumbled as she bathed and dressed. If it weren't for the fact that there was an attractive apostate was waiting for her, she wouldn't be getting up at all after the groups' late night. It was quite disappointing for her when she got to Darktown and the clinic was still boarded up. She pounded on the doors, muttering under her breath about unreliable companions when Anders eased the door open enough that she could slide in.  
      "You're early." he muttered, rubbing at his eyes sleepily.  
      "I'm not early, this is on time."  
      Anders looked up at the sun, then slid the door shut and bolted it. "I'm going back to sleep. You can take my bed, if you want. It'll be warmer, this place gets colder than the Fade some nights."  
      "I can't do that, I'll sleep on a cot." Lillian yawned, "You're sure you don't have to open the clinic?"  
      "I open when I feel like it, sweetheart. And after last night, I need the extra sleep."  
      The term of endearment caught her off guard and Hawke blinked. "That bad?"  
      "Mmm." Anders was already on a cot, a thin blanket pulled up to his chest. Lillian stared a moment, then shrugged and crawled on his bed, pulling the furs around herself. After a few long moments of staring at the support beams in the ceiling above her she drifted off.

      Hawke woke several hours later, a heavy weight at her back. She shifted slightly to find Anders wrapped tightly around her, the furs half around his waist. At her movement he started awake, staring uncomfortably then jumping to his feet with a bunch of mumbled apologies.  
      "Anders, it's fine. I told you it was too cold for you to sleep on a cot."  
      He nodded slightly. "I thought I was too tired for it to matter. I also thought I'd be awake long before you."  
      "It's fine." Lillian sat up, sliding her legs off the bed and patting the spot next to her. He sat warily, relaxing a bit when she simply slid half the blanket onto his lap. "I hardly think waking up next to a handsome mage is the worst of my concerns."  
      Anders ran his fingers through his hair nervously. "Don't get attached to me Hawke. I'm not good for either of us. I'm serious. I never thought any woman would look past the whole Justice thing. When one finally did..." he stopped fidgeting, meeting her eyes. His hand lifted to brush a stray lock of hair from her face, making Lillian shiver with delight at the caress. "When one did I found that hurting her would cause me more pain then not having her."  
      He stood, shuffling around to get the clinic ready. Lillian's eyes followed him raptly, her breath still somewhere between her lungs and her throat. After a few moments she stood, straightening her clothing. It took them only a matter of minutes to get everything set up but when Anders went to unlatch the door Hawke grabbed his arm.  
      "Anders, wait. I... you... I'm sorry. I'm not normally very... bold." She could feel the heat rising in her cheeks, the flush in her forehead. "I'm making you uncomfortable. I'm sorry."  
      Anders smiled, shook his head slightly. The heat coming off Lillian was palpable and he lifted her hand, running a gentle spell over her palm that visibly relaxed her.  
      "You're not making me uncomfortable. You're making me too comfortable."  
      "Isn't that a good thing?"  
      "No... not with Justice." His eyes glittered sadly, and he turned to unlatch the door. "If things were different, if this were years ago... I wouldn't pass up the chance to make things work. I'm not good for you Hawke. Lillian. Hopefully soon you'll figure that out."


End file.
